


Once the Apple Drops

by Dane_Wilshire



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 07:08:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1809700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dane_Wilshire/pseuds/Dane_Wilshire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Mrs. Weasley can see how much it's hurting her son to see Harry with Ginny, and she finds herself having to choose between one child's happiness and another's.</p><p>Summary: Molly Weasley fights a mother’s instinct and learns that sometimes children can teach valuable lessons of love and maturity. The title is a play on words and ideas – saying an apple doesn't fall far from the tree can mean a child is like a parent (or ancestor), it's a play on the phrase when the penny drops meaning someone finally gets the point, and Newton supposedly understood something brilliant when an apple dropped on him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once the Apple Drops

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: It’s right there in the prompt, folks: Harry with Ginny. Just let me fix that. Sorry, I got really long-winded and philosophical with this. Other than that and some slightly confusing genealogy, no warnings.

Another sleepless night.

Molly wished she could blame her restlessness on the heat, but the summer was actually pleasantly mild. She could have tried to blame it on thoughts of war, but that would have been a lie. Instead, she sat at the large, worn, heavy oak table in the kitchen absently swiping her hand across its smooth, aged surface and thinking once again about her children. Her children were the foundation for her greatest satisfactions and the source of her worst frustrations. She remembered the old saying: A witch’s work by dusk is done, but a mother’s work is never gone. Truer words were never said.

This time she was preoccupied with thoughts of her two youngest children, and another child that might as well have been her own. Ronald, Ginevra, and Harry had such a strange dynamic amongst themselves. Ginny had a crush on the Wizarding World hero, Harry Potter, long before she’d ever met him. Of course, no one in the Weasley family had ever expected to meet him, let alone come to think of him as family; but then Ron had struck up an instant friendship with Harry on the train to their first day at Hogwarts, and the Weasleys had thought of Harry as their own dark-haired son ever since.

Ron and Harry’s friendship was confusing to Molly Weasley, yet oddly comforting. At first she thought the two couldn’t have been more opposite, but as she watched them together she realized that their oppositeness was one reason their personalities fit together like puzzle pieces. One’s strengths made up for the other’s weaknesses. Everyone in the wizard world knew that Harry was heir to a significant fortune and the last survivor of several well-respected families. Yet, Harry didn’t care that the Weasley family, though ancient, were impoverished and on the wrong side of the current power-base.

At Hogwarts, Ron and Harry had certainly gotten themselves into much more than the usual amount of boyish trouble. Nonetheless they had come through it all with (she hoped) decent marks and some important life lessons. Harry had even taken on the role of leader of Dumbledore’s Army and brought out some commendable magical skills in both Ron and Ginny. She’d long suspected that Ginny had a great magical force in her, after all, she came from a long ancestry of great witches, but sometimes her daughter had trouble with her focus and delivery.

Looking back, Molly realized that the subtle changes in her children really began with the creation of Dumbledore’s Army and had continued through the following year, eventually culminating in Harry and Ginny’s uneven courtship and Ron’s emotional retraction. Of course, Ron would be overprotective of his only sister. He had always been given to extremes, but his behaviour had become extreme even for him. Ron had withdrawn from his friendship with Harry, from his brotherly affection for his sister, from his family and from his schoolwork.

When Molly thought about the relationship between Ginny and Harry she came out empty-handed. There wasn’t the sort of…physical involvement…she might have expected from two teenagers that were supposed to be in a romantic relationship. In some respects she was glad of that; she knew that, these days, children could go a lot further with a lot less thought than when she had been that age. Still, the seeming lack of physical intimacy between Harry and Ginny surprised her. It seemed as if they were merely filling space in one another’s lives while each of them waited for something better to come along.

Or at least, that’s how it seemed with Harry. Oh, she didn’t doubt that Harry cared for Ginny. Molly was well aware of Harry’s less-than-happy childhood and knew that he had trouble with affection. Ginny’s intentions were much clearer to her, both as a mother and a woman. She could almost feel the want within Ginny, and it frightened her. She didn’t want her only daughter to make a rash choice either for or against Harry’s ability and desire to fulfil her need.

When Molly watched Ron’s reactions to Ginny and Harry, her intuition told her there was more than just a sense of protectiveness for his sister and jealousy that his best mate had found someone. Ron did his best to plaster his emotions over with boldness and anger, but all he managed was a thin coat. Just beneath that Molly could almost see the ache spreading through him, she could feel the dejection. Her son loved his best mate – his own sister’s boyfriend – but she didn’t know if Ron himself was even aware of it. Honestly – when she allowed herself to think about it over the string of sleepless nights since the beginning of summer – she felt that Ron and Harry were a much better match for each other than Ginny and Harry. What was a mother to do?

She thought about talking to Arthur, but she suspected her husband just wouldn’t understand her worries. There were a few women she was close enough to that she could have asked, but she didn’t want to risk the gossip that could evolve, especially since Harry Potter was part of the story. So, she spent yet another sleepless night absently swiping her hand across the surface of the large, worn, heavy oak kitchen table.

Then a thought began to emerge at the back of her brain. There were people she could ask. Of course there were. She mentally berated herself for not having thought of it sooner. Slowly, quietly she rose from her chair and made another cup of tea. She set the cup on the table near her chair then went out to the sitting room to retrieve her treasure. In the back right corner of the sideboard, she found the large, sturdy cedar box, which she pulled out and carried back to the kitchen table.

Molly took a long drink of her tea and lifted the lid off the treasure box; inside were photographs and miniature portraits of family and friends long-gone from the earthly plane. Of course, she could ask these people. Combined, they had centuries of experience, and she could trust that her worries wouldn’t become market chatter. After all, family was her problem and family could help her find an answer.

The first photograph she chose was the simplest and clearest choice: Elsie Gwendolyn Parkin Prewett, her mother. She had to think carefully about her other selections, but finally two more came quickly to mind, almost as if they were calling out to her from the cedar memory box: her great-grandmother, Althea Wiblin Oldridge, and Althea’s brother-in-law, Molly’s great-grand-uncle, Guidon Oldridge. Althea had been an extraordinary witch and was well-revered for her protection spells and psychic abilities; and Guidon, who had never married, lived quite joyfully for 78 years after Hogwarts with his best schoolmate, Gules White.

Molly arranged the pictures in a semi-circle around her. The occupants were clearly a bit upset at having been shuffled around and awakened in the middle of the night, but after Molly apologised and explained her reasons, the three seemed to settle down.

“Molly, dear, you should just leave well enough alone,” Elsie was the first to respond. “You know you can’t meddle too deeply in your children’s affairs. They will only end up resenting you for it. Besides, what happens if you’re wrong?”

“Mother, I’ve thought about that for over a fortnight. For one thing, I can’t go on with these sleepless nights; for another, I can’t stand to see any of my children hurting. Ginny will soon press Harry for more than what they have now. Ron will slowly start to harden inside, his spirit will dry up, and he’ll become even more distant from everyone! And poor little Harry, he will just go along and do what he thinks others expect of him whether he wants to or not, whether or not it makes him happy. They will all end up unhappy. They will all end up resenting each other.” Molly sighed, took a sip of her tea, and rested her head on her hand.

Great-grandmother Althea answered next. “Molly, I know how you feel.” Althea wandered over to the photograph of Elsie. “Elsie, if you tell your mother I said this I will hex you into a still-life! Don’t think I can’t!” Althea then went back to her own miniature from which she spoke directly to Molly Weasley. “The truth is I never thought that Percy Parkin was a good match for your grandmother Genia. I thought Genia could have done better. There were bad omens around that man. Nevertheless, the two of them seemed to complement each other and found ways to compromise; it was because of Genia that Percy was able to make better decisions and avoid some of the troubles that could have come his way.

“I didn’t get involved in that one. I think you should try to help your children sort this out amongst themselves. Ginevra is a strong woman, and strong women soon learn that sometimes they have to give up the thing they think they want or need the most to find that which will truly bring them joy. More to the point, she’s always going to be an independent woman,” Althea continued. “Harry has such a large well of love and caring inside him, but he doesn’t know it or understand it. He thinks that makes him vulnerable. I’ve heard Dumbledore trying to teach the boy about the power of love.”

Molly interrupted her great-grandmother. “You know Dumbledore? You’ve heard him teaching?”

Althea laughed heartily. “Pumpkin-dumpling, everyone knows Dumbledore. You probably never knew that for two years I taught Divination at Hogwarts. It was just after I left school and before I married Pennon Oldridge. Because of that, I have a small portrait in the Divination tower. There’s another in Ravenclaw’s common room, where I was once Head-Girl. As a former professor, I sit in a group portrait in the Headmaster’s office. I visit occasionally, but I don’t get around as much now as I used to.

“So, I have seen the children at school. Ron likes to make others think he’s surrounded himself with armour, but he recognizes the well of love he has within him – unlike Harry. In large part, that’s a credit to you, Molly. Ron just doesn’t know what to do with it. He wants to share it with someone, and the most logical move for him is Harry, even if it doesn’t make sense to him now.”

Guidon finally added his two Knuts. “Althea is right on the last count. If you will remember, I was a chess champion at Hogwarts. Ronald plays chess and has tried to teach Harry; I’ve heard them in your sitting room. Ronald thinks in strategies and moves, while Harry reacts first and thinks later. For some time, Ronald has been trying to get Harry to make a move that will expose himself – metaphorically, of course. I’ve also heard Ginevra going about your house. At first, she was attracted to Harry’s fame. Back in my day, young girls would feel the same about romantic poets or dashing adventurers. When Harry joined your family, she thought he had come to her like she had dreamed, but she’s growing up now and realizing that might not be the case.”

Guidon sighed then continued, “Both your mother and great-grandmother are right in some ways. I think you should give them an opening or opportunity to find the path, but let them sort it out on their own. Truth be told, Ronald and Harry could have a friendship that becomes an even larger love story. What’s unknown here is how Harry feels. He’s very guarded. There’s a great risk in not getting involved, but a greater one in being the centre of it.”

Molly shook her head. “Oh, I don’t think this has helped at all. I’ve had some of the same arguments with myself. I’ll think about everything you’ve said. But I can see the sunrise and have to start the morning for my family.” She put the pictures back in the box, put the box back in the sitting room sideboard, and began making breakfast. 

~~*~~ 

It wasn’t unusual for the smell of food to entice Ron to the kitchen, but it was unusual to see him so early in the day. Ron shuffled into the kitchen, slumped into a chair, and waited for breakfast like a great, lazy, sleepy lion. A quick glance told her that Ron hadn’t slept much. She saw the possibility of a path opening and took it.

“Ronnie, dear, after breakfast could you and Harry please go out to the orchard and pick some apples? I want to make an apple tart for tonight.” She took a quick, deep breath and plunged ahead. “Maybe you two can have a talk. You won’t tell me what’s bothering you, but Harry is your closest friend, I’m sure he can help.”

Ron raised his head in what would likely be a protest, but Molly cut off the dissent at once. “I know that young men like to pretend they don’t have feelings or that nothing affects them, but I also know that’s just pretend. You’re as human as the rest of us. I know there are some things a boy thinks he can’t talk about to his mother, or even his father, for that matter. I was young once, too, you know. I thought my parents couldn’t understand what was swirling about in my mind. But a good friend will help you figure yourself out when you can’t.”

After breakfast, Molly asked Harry if he and Ron could pick apples for her. She’d already planted the seed in Ron’s mind, now she just had to find a way to propagate that through Harry. The chance arose as if by magic. Ron shambled glumly out the door and into the garden. Harry was just about to follow behind when Molly stopped him. “Harry, could I ask you something?” 

“Of course, Mrs. Weasley,” Harry replied.

“Molly. Please, call me Molly. Something’s bothering Ron, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. I know as well as you do that he acts as if he wants to be left alone to sort things out, but my mother’s instinct tells me this is something he’s going to need help with. I also suspect you’ve already tried to help, but could you give it another go? That’s part of the reason I’m sending you to the lower orchard today. It’s far enough out that if you need to scream at each other in order to get some sense in him, you can. Just don’t get in a fight. I don’t have the patience to try to patch anyone up today.”

Harry looked at Mrs. Weasley curiously. “I’ll try, but Ron doesn’t like to talk when he’s in these moods. I don’t know what’s wrong with him. I just want my mate back.”

Molly tried to hide the smirk with her hand. She caught the double meaning, she just didn’t know if Harry meant it. “That’s all I can ask, dear. At least this will get you two out of the house. Some fresh air, sunshine, and openness should help.”

Ginny made as if she was going to follow the boys for their errand but Molly had other ideas. “Ginny, I need you in here for a little while yet.” Molly waited until the back door had closed and the boys had started out to the field before she continued. “Ginny, we need to have a little mother-daughter chat.”

Ginny rolled her eyes and harrumphed. “Mum, we’ve already had that talk. It was bad enough the first time.”

“Not that talk, Gin-Gin,” Molly answered. “This is going to be a more grown-up chat. Let’s sit down.” The two sat at adjacent sides of the large oak table. Molly folded her hands on the tabletop, and looked her daughter in the eye, “Ginny, sometimes a woman has to make what seems like awful choices at the time we make them. I suppose men do, too, but women consider them differently. Sometimes a woman has to give up the thing she thinks she wants in order to find the thing she needs.”

“Mum, is this about Harry?” Ginny asked.

Molly was a bit startled and couldn’t hide the emotion from her only daughter. “Well, yes it is in a way.”

“Oh, Mum, I’ve already figured that out. Harry’s a good man, or he will be. For right now, he’s a good boy. I had hoped I could help him learn that he will be a good man some day, but either way, he’s going to be that for someone else. Well, that is, only if someone else opens their eyes and sees it.” 

Molly just looked at her daughter quizzically. Ginny shook her head and let out a little laugh. “Mum, Harry’s going to be a good man for Ron only if Ron and Harry admit that they have feelings for each other beyond mere friendship. Haven’t you been paying attention? Don’t you see how they are together? They’re perfect for each other!”

Molly could only sputter. “Well…I, um….”

Ginny interrupted, “I liked Harry. I thought I loved him. Of course, I love him, but now he’s more like a goofy brother than my boyfriend. Sometimes, it takes Ron a while to catch on to things; you know that. Sometimes, Harry just needs a nudge in the right direction. I told him last night that we could be friends but there wasn’t more than that between us. Maybe he will talk to Ron about it.”

Molly Weasley gave her daughter an amazed smile. “You’re already quite a woman, Ginevra Weasley.”

~~*~~ 

In the lower apple orchard, furthest away from the Burrow, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter picked apples in silence. The only sounds were the dull thud of the apples as they dropped into bushel baskets, the stream gurgling at the end of the orchard, and the distant noises from the village of Ottery-St.-Catchpole. The breeze softened the already mild summer morning, and helped dispel the tension that had simmered between the two best mates over the past few weeks.

“Last night, Ginny told me that she was breaking up with me,” Harry said plainly. “She said what we’d had was great, but there was more friendship than romance there.”

“Sorry to hear that, mate,” Ron replied.

“Thanks.” Harry dropped a couple more apples in the basket at his feet and edged his way around the tree closer toward Ron. “She also said she thought there was someone else who liked me – that we’d be a better fit together.”

“We would?” Ron stammered. “She said that?!” Ron dropped his apples on the ground and stared, open mouthed, at his best mate.

Harry turned slowly to look at Ron, who had flushed a deep shade of some colour he couldn’t quite name. Harry tilted his head to the side and said, “Well, she didn’t say us – you and me – but I think that’s what she meant. And I think she was right. Wasn’t she?”

Ron didn’t say a word. He just stood in the orchard, smiling at his best mate and nodded his head.


End file.
